A Collection of Grievers
by mikanflower
Summary: Pardon the pun. If you don't understand it now, you will later on. Rated M for major character death, violence, and other potential serious issues.
1. The Edge of a Fall

_What if Thomas had died instead of Teresa?_

The walls of the storage room was rapidly caving inwards. Pieces of the ceiling fell, crashing and exploding. The ground shook violently as bombs continued to detonate. There were too many explosives, way too many.

Thomas and Minho kept stumbling and tripping each other, but every time one would fall, the other would yank him up immediately. Thomas watched as Brenda and Teresa made their way over to him, terror glinting in their eyes.

All of them deserved to get out of here alive. Thomas couldn't afford to lose another friend again. The images of bloody Chuck and lifeless Newt flashed before his eyes. No, Thomas would die before anyone else would.

A massive piece of the ceiling broke loose with a loud _crack_, where Minho happened to be standing right under.

No, not Minho!

Just as Minho's dark brown eyes widened in recognition, Thomas tackled him, his body slamming into Minho and shoving him towards the maintenance room. He felt nothing as the huge section of the building fell on top of him and pinned him to the ground; his only visible body parts were his upper body and his arms. He thought he could hear something crack in his body, but he wasn't too sure.

"Thomas, no!" Minho screamed as he rushed towards his friend, falling to his knees and grabbing Thomas' right hand.

This wasn't real. This was only just a dream. Minho would wake up from his nightmare and be comforted by Thomas who might gently stroke his hair and place light kisses on his cheeks. Minho refused to admit any of this was real.

The truth was always hard to admit.

Minho moved closer to Thomas, slowly pulling him out from under the wreckage and cradling his body in his arms. Stroking his hair comfortingly, the Korean boy found his fingers stained with blood.

"Thomas, don't leave, don't you dare leave me, ya slinthead." Minho's voice was wrecked with loud sobs and choked breathing. Tears streamed down his face and onto Thomas' cheeks.

"I'm still here, Minho," Thomas said softly. "Still here." He tried to lift his hand up to rest on Minho's cheek, but he winced in pain and drew his hand back sharply.

"You didn't have to save me," Minho sobbed. "You really didn't have to, you shank."

"I couldn't bear to see another one of my friends die while I was standing right there," Thomas answered, his voice growing quieter and quieter, as his eyes fluttered shut. "I love it when you... call me shank. Keep going."

"I love you." Minho's voice was barely audible now. "I love you so much." He leaned in to press his lips to Thomas', lightly stroking his cheek with his hand. "I love you."

"I love you too." Thomas was finding it harder to speak, let alone take in another breath, but he kissed Minho back anyway. This was going to be their last kiss, the end of their hopes for a future together-

A bright light was starting to cloud Thomas' vision. He swore he could hear his friends calling out his name, inviting him to join them.

He wasn't far away from doing so.

"Thomas! Thomas!" a boy's voice called out cheerfully. It belonged to no other than Chuck. "Come on! Join us!"

"Welcome, Thomas," Alby and Newt said at the same time.

Thomas was ready.

"Thomas? _Thomas_?"

Suddenly, everything went dark. Thomas couldn't see or hear anything anymore.

"Minho, Thomas is gone."

"No, he's not! Leave me alone!"

"Minho, it's pointless now. Thomas is-"

"S-slim it! H-he's not d-dead yet!"

It was all for the better.

Goodbye.

* * *

><p>Hi guys! Audrey here. A Collection of Grievers is basically a collection of short stories based on the "what ifs" or theories people may have about the Maze Runner series in general, as well as stories with different perspectives (ex. Newt's POV of Thomas entering the maze for the first time). If you guys want me to write something, fill this form out and place it in the reviews section!<p>

**What if **(fill in the blank)

**Fan Theory:** (if applicable)

(Moment) **in** (character)**'s**** POV **(if applicable)

**Relationship you'd like to see:**

And of course, if you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please feel free to shoot me a PM. I'm open to any suggestions and all ships! (Though Thominho is my bias I am more than willing to write other ships.)


	2. Where My Demons Hide

Trigger Warning: Attempted Suicide

* * *

><p><em>How did Newt get his limp?<em>

On the mere surface, Newt was a friendly and responsible Glader who was in a good mood most of the time. However, even as he worked in the gardens and helped Alby make sure everything in the Glade was running as smoothly as possible, bitter emptiness ate away at his heart. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his old life, to not be stuck in the maze.

What was having a family like? Actual parents, mothers or fathers. Perhaps he had siblings in his past life. If so, he wondered if they were looking for him also. Seeking to punish whoever created this Maze and placed him in there for exposing him to such grief and unfairness at an early age.

He would laugh along with the other Gladers and do his share of work to keep the peace in their small community, but the fact he was going to be stuck here forever bothered him. Negativity seeped into his thoughts, poisoning his heart with hopelessness.

Newt didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this.

A relatively perceptive person would have noticed Newt was not acting like his usual self that day. Solemn and brooding, he simply nodded at those who greeted him, staring thoughtfully into the distance. No one could guess what subconscious thoughts lay hidden away in his mind, but no one knew of his true, inner emotions.

"'m going out to the Maze a bit," Newt told Alby quietly and walked away quickly, breaking out into a run after passing the walls and disappearing into the Maze. Alby simply raised an eyebrow at Newt's strange behavior but decided he would question his second-in-command later on.

Alby was lucky there was going to be a "later on".

If anyone had been paying close attention to Newt, they would have realized he was far too ill-equipped to go into the Maze, a major red flag. He had no hand protectors, no water, not even a pack with him. However, as usual, the Gladers were busy with their own work and assumed Newt was doing his job.

As soon as he was far away enough from the Glade, the blond boy let out a soft sigh of relief he didn't know he had been suppressing the entire time. Finally, he would have his chance to escape it all, to be free from the shackles of torment that tightly cocooned him.

He was surprised at the energy he had that propelled him to grab the ivies and make his way up to the top of the wall. Newt forced his trembling fingers to steady themselves as he unfolded the note and grasped it in his hands. He hated that he had to do this, but it was going to be for the better.

He peered down the rock and estimated there was about a hundred and twenty feet between his height and the ground.

Good.

Newt took in a deep, shaky breath. It was all for the better, it was all for the better. This phrase replayed over and over in his mind, like a sort of mantra.

He closed his eyes, walking to the edge and stepping off. As he fell, all he could think of was, "I'm sorry."

He expected instant brightness, for light to engulf his vision and for someone to sweep him away into the afterlife, but none of that happened.

This was not what he had planned. He had wanted his suffering to end, not to worsen. Pain shot through his right leg, and he let out a bloodcurdling scream. It was on fire, burning and melting in the flames of hell. Pressing his hands into the ground, he tried to lift himself up but to no avail. His leg seemed to have dislocated due to the severe impact of his leg slamming into the ground with full force.

Blood trickled from fresh cuts formed from sharp rocks strewn on the dirt digging into his skin. Had he broken any other parts of his body? He tentatively tested his neck, arms, and back. No. Before he could dwell on the fact he was still alive, he passed out immediately.

"Where the shuck is Newt?" Alby asked, glancing up at the sky nervously. It wasn't long before the walls were going to close.

Being his impatient self, he couldn't bear waiting any longer. He disappeared into the maze, unfamiliar with his surroundings and clumsily maneuvering the winding and twisting paths.

He jumped at a small thudding noise, his heart racing faster. It couldn't possibly be Newt, right?

"Newt? Newt?" the leader of the Glade called out desperately, turning around and around to look for any signs of the British boy. His foot hit something soft, and he looked down, jumping back a couple of centimeters when he realized it was Newt.

"If only I had known," Alby said, choking back tears. "I'm so stupid..." He bent down to check for his pulse. Good, he was alive.

A small slip of paper in Newt's fingers caught his attention, and he gently pried the note from his hand, his blood turning ice cold when he read the contents.

The note read, _The Maze is a prison, and I have escaped its clutches at last._

Alby stood in a daze. What could have possibly driven Newt to attempt to end his life? Alby would try to ask him later on.

Wiping a tear away from his eyes, he gently scooped Newt up into the air, slowly walking back to the Glade with the second-in-command in his arms bridal style.

Later on, Newt would blame Thomas for his injury, for the unjust pains dealt to him, but then he would ask his best friend to kill him, to put him out of his misery.

His last wish.

* * *

><p>Thank you AsgardianGrizzly for your request! I hope this is fine. Writing this made me really sad ;~; Poor Newt.<p>

Keep the requests coming! I want to write stuff for you guys! :)


End file.
